Wood," she continued, with a sudden change of tone, and convulsively clutching the carpenter's arm, "promise it me. I—I don’t understand,” the man faltered wearily. And such skirts as Ann Veronica had had when she entered the valley of Saas were safely packed away in the hotel, and she wore a leather belt and loose knickerbockers and puttees—a costume that suited the fine, long lines of her limbs far better than any feminine walking-dress could do.
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